


Silver Spoons and Lead Knives

by RizGriz



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe - No Apocalypse (Umbrella Academy), Bisexual Diego Hargreeves, Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Diego Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Diego Hargreeves is Bad at Feelings, Diego Hargreeves-centric, Dumpster Bagel: Do Not Eat, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Family Feels, Family Secrets, Hurt Diego Hargreeves, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Multi, Parent/Child Incest, Protective Diego Hargreeves, Sexual Abuse, Sibling Bonding, Stuttering Diego Hargreeves, This is so dark, and family secrets coming to light, and shared trauma, because of the magic of family, but he grows as a person, not luther friendly at first, police investigations, same with allison
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:22:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26935819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RizGriz/pseuds/RizGriz
Summary: When the Hargreeves come together for their father's funeral things are bound to get messy. Pogo lets Allison into the security room to look through old tapes, but she happens upon a new tape, one that recorded Reginald's death. A mysterious man is there when Reginald dies, yet does nothing to help. At the last possible moment, Allison finally catches a good look at his face and what she sees is worse than she could imagine.Diego has fought to keep the things that happened to him quiet, but that's not an option anymore, not when Luther and Allison are determined to unravel the secrets shrouding the Umbrella Academy. Oh, and they also accidentally avert the apocalypse?
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves & Eudora Patch, Diego Hargreeves & The Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves/Eudora Patch, Diego Hargreeves/Reginald Hargreeves
Comments: 20
Kudos: 75





	1. Fresh Label

**Author's Note:**

> MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING!! for real tho, look through the tags before you start reading cause I don't want anyone getting hurt, so please stay safe!!
> 
> each chapter is probably gonna be short cause Imma goldfish with depression
> 
> also, if you want a happier/less traumatic diego-centric fic, hop on over to my profile and check out my series over there!

When it rains it pours is what they say but it had been raining Diego’s whole life so who's to say now was any different. Gathered together for a funeral, the Umbrella Academy vividly remembered why everything had fallen apart. Because they had fallen apart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pogo had left Allison in the monitor room to sift through bitter sweet childhood memories. Tape after tape of play fights in the courtyard, evenings spent in the library, house wide games of hide and seek. Of course there were the stranger ones, recordings of them all sleeping, training sessions, tense diners, but Allison just pushed those aside, they were nothing worth revisiting.

A fresh label caught her eye, a recently recorded video. Only a date written in Pogo’s careful script labeled the vhs. The date was the 18th of March, 2019.

“The day Dad died?” she muttered to herself. Luther had mentioned that Dad had activated the security system again recently.

Popping it into the player, Allison leaned in to see the small screen more clearly. An image of Dad’s room came on. There was no one in the room, bed made, curtains open, everything as it should be. The time stamp read 5:18pm. Her eyes flew around the tiny screen, taking in every detail of the room, but nothing was wrong or out of place, or so she assumed, they had never been allowed near his room.

The vhs made a whining sound and the screen went snowy. Allison gently smacked the player and the bedroom came back on screen. Only it wasn’t the same. The time said 8:43pm. Now there were two people, one leaning back on pillows by the headboard, the other sitting stiffly at the first’s feet.

It was clearly Dad who sat relaxed at the top of the bed, so she looked closer to see who was with him.

They were sat in the right direction for the camera to see, but they're face was down turned. It was a man with sun kissed skin, wearing a white shirt unbuttoned all the way down, and didn’t seem to be wearing any pants that she could see.

Dad was speaking about something, the man with him nodding lightly, and making a waving gesture with his left hand, his right holding a tumbler of liquor. The hand in the air faltered, stalling in midair. The other man’s shoulders grew so tight Allison could see it clearly on the screen.

Dad’s hand suddenly came to clutch at his chest, body convulsing strangely. The tumbler fell gracelessly from his right hand. He seemed unable to breathe properly.

“So Dad wasn’t alone when he died?” she whispered to herself. She waited for the other man on screen to jump into action, to perform chest compressions or call for Mom. Something, anything, but he sat perfectly still as Dad’s heart gave out.

Eventually Dad’s movements slowed and stopped altogether. Only then did the mystery man move. Slowly, the man reached out a hand, hesitating just before touching Dad’s neck. Pressing two fingers to the arteries, the man seemed to be checking for a pulse.

After several minutes of this, of nothing moving, of the man feeling for a thready pulse, he pulled back seemingly satisfied.

Then a tremor ran through the man’s hand and he seemed to come to his senses, scrambling back off the bed and away from the body. Allison could see now that the man was wearing some kind of white underwear that sat low on his hips. Hips that had a long, dark scar on the right side. It seemed familiar.

The man pressed against one of Dad’s dressers, curled protectively into himself, cradling the hand he’d used to feel for a pulse.

After an excruciatingly long moment, the man pulled himself up to stand, stumbling from the room.

As he scrambled to leave, Allison caught sight of his face. Her blood ran cold and her breathe halted.

She would recognise him anywhere.

He had promised Dad’s death had been perfectly normal. He had raised hell when Luther suspected foul play.

And yet, Diego had been in Dad’s room as the man died.


	2. Steel Foundations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allison spent most of the night watching the tape, now she has to show Luther.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i'm back and i've got some warnings: Please Read The Tags And Turn Back If It Might Be Triggering, I Don't Want To See Any Of You Get Hurt
> 
> Also, we are officially straying from canon, but not super drastically just yet.
> 
> on another note, chrome keeps saying 'rewatch' isn't a word even though you can google it and it has like two definitions, so explain that one :/

Her hand stilled on the doorknob to Luther’s room. He was probably still hiding away from everybody since his and Diego’s fight yesterday. The thought of Diego made her stomach tight and uncomfortable.

Allison had spent hours watching that tape on repeat until the image was burned into her mind. At first she hadn’t wanted to believe, but it was undeniable, Diego had been there and done nothing as their father died. What if it wasn’t just a random heart attack? What if that chip on Diego’s shoulder had been Dad’s undoing? Eventually Allison had glanced up at the clock to see the hour hand resting at the two. After that she went to bed, barely closing her eyes. Her brother was involved in Dad’s death

Steeling herself for Luther’s reaction, Allison slowly turned the knob, cracking the door open enough to slip in quietly.

Luther was asleep, turned on his side away from the door. He seemed to be curling into himself, still wrapped in his large overcoat. Padding over softly, Allison laid a hand on his arm.

After a moment he stirred. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Luther pulled his arm away from her just the tiniest bit. She didn’t let her hand follow.

“There’s something you need to see,” Allison said softly. He looked confused and it sent a pang of hurt through her chest to know what she was about to show him.

~

Allison handed Luther one of the mugs of coffee she had gone down to the kitchen to get while he dressed. Luther sat in the little office chair in the A/V room, cradling the mug as the tape ran through. She stood behind him, leaning against a cabinet with more recordings.

“What’s special about this tape?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder, eyebrow twisted, eyes looking so innocent.

“Keep watching,” she said. He turned back to the little screen just as the tape skipped time. The recording must have been stopped, not that Allison could figure out why. Dad had always liked being able to rewatch important training moments, sometimes even just everyday moments, so it didn’t make sense why he would have shut off the recording just to turn it back on later with Diego in his room.

Dad and Diego came on screen, Dad raised his tumbler, dropped it to clutch at his chest, and Diego did nothing. Then after dad’s body had stilled, Diego checked for a pulse before nearly flinging himself back. A moment passed and Diego fled from the room. From there the recording kept going, recording Pogo finding Dad several hours later.

“What was Diego doing in Dad’s room?” Luther said with a venomous edge. he turned to look at her.

“I’m not sure, I don’t know why he’s wearing that, or why he ran,” she pressed her fingertips to her forehead, hoping to rub away some of the tension. “I can’t figure out why he didn’t just say he was there.”

“Obviously he had something to do with Dad’s death!” Luther said quietly, glancing out at the hallway like someone would pop out. “Dad was getting paranoid, he must have known someone was out to get him, maybe he just didn’t expect it to be Two.”

“Two?” Allison scoffed. Sure, Luther and Diego nipped at each other’s heels, but going back to numbers? That was cold. “He’s still our brother, we don’t know what happened, it could have just been a freak accident.”

“No, no, Dad never let anyone but Mom and Pogo in his room, why would he let _Two_ sit on his bed? It all seems so casual,” he stood, ejecting the tape from the machine, tucking it into his inner coat pocket. “Maybe he poisoned the drink?” he said quietly, barely loud enough for Allison to hear.

“Okay, you have to admit that sounds a little crazy, right?” she said scathingly. Luther met her eyes, one brow arched.

“He’s hiding something and you know it or else you wouldn’t have shown me the tape, we have to do something.” Luther said firmly. She could see such true conviction on his face, true grief for Dad.

“I mean,” she paused hesitantly. “yeah, something’s weird, but we can’t handle this ourselves, we have to turn it over to the police, Luther.”

“We should talk to Mom first, find out if Diego had been coming around, figure out our basis first,” he said. Allison bit at her bottom lip, thinking for a long beat before slowly nodding. Luther cracked the tiniest sad smile at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how natural Allison and Luther felt but it did seem like the kind of interaction they would have in this circumstance, so.
> 
> drop a comment if you're excited for the next chapter that i already have written where we finally get Diego's pov! or not, but dropping a comment would be very sexy of you, so consider that
> 
> National Sexual Assault Hotline  
> Call 1-800-656-4673
> 
> National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233


	3. Basement Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night of the funeral Diego goes back to the group he found refuge at.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tone of this chapter is supposed to feel very repetitive because when I get very anxious of numb, I tend to replay thoughts and such. As a disclaimer of sorts, I have never experienced this any sort of sexual assault so all of my knowledge is (thankfully) second-hand. Please, don't hesitate to call me out on anything.

The church basement smelled musty with an edge of bleach. The bathrooms must have been clean yesterday. It was a Monday night so the cleaning people probably came in after service to scrub the place down for the week. He couldn’t help but kind of like the weirdly homie scent of this place. The Academy had never smelled musty, the vague scent of furniture polish and artificial lemon had always hung in the air.

Diego sat with his feet tucked up under him, shoved into the corner of one of the couches donated to the church. That’s probably where the musty _cat-lady-meets-nursing-home_ smell came from.

He was way to early for the meeting, but Momma De had let him in. She’d asked him to set out the circle of chairs, then she’d asked him to make coffee, then to make sure the door was unlocked and the meeting’s sign situated outside.

Then he’d squished himself into the corner of the couch and started thinking about how musty it smelled and how long ago the bathrooms were bleached. He could feel Momma De watching him from across the room where she went through paperwork and folded pamphlets.

He should probably help her fold pamphlets. But she hadn’t asked him to help fold pamphlets and she would ask if she wanted your help. But he should help anyways. Except his legs didn’t want to move and he kind of just wanted to keep thinking about bleached bathrooms and musty couches and whether or not Momma De would ask for his help folding pamphlets.

the bell jangled as the door upstairs opened and closed. light footsteps sounded over to the stairwell, tapping on each step. Amanda came around the corner from the stairs all bundled up for the cold. the rain from earlier that day having passed, a layer of ice left in it’s wake. his own coat was thrown over the back of one of the folding chairs in the circle.

“Hey, Momma De,” Amanda said, sitting next to Diego on the cat lady couch. Amanda reminded Diego of Vanya, and he’d told her as much. Small and delicate, easy to overlook, but quick in her own way. They had drifted together when she joined the year before last. Being around Amanda made his heart ache for when he’d been close with Vanya, before Ben’s death and Klaus’ descent into drugs. But just often enough she would be bold and sharp, reminding him Vanya wasn’t as truly helpless as she seemed, that she had made a decision to write that book.

He could feel Amanda and momma de exchange a glance. Somewhere in his mind Diego knew he was acting strange, sort of disconnected. After all, the last few months he’d been showing up to group as a success story, that a someone could hurt you but it was possible to become your own person again, to regain that sense of self. But now?

now, he was clearly back to square one. maybe not square one, but certainly not doing as well as he had last week.

“Hey, you good?” Amanda asked softly, keeping an arms distance from him. she was considerate like that.

“I’m not really sure,” Diego said in a distant voice. Momma De had stopped folding, looking over to watch him.

“Because of your dad’s death?” she asked. He hated seeing her so worried.

“I-” he started. should he say anything? Nothing had actually happened he shouldn’t feel like this. He should feel free. “yeah,”

Amanda looked like she wanted to say something else, but the bell upstairs jingled again. instead she shot him a sad smile. He silently gave her one too.

* * *

The circle was mostly full. A sold nine people had shown up for the meeting. Diego could feel eyes glancing over to watch him, even some of the new people. The group had gotten really small over the past months, every person who graduated, so to speak, and moved on was celebrated, and the group kept meeting every week regardless.

This week there were four new people. Diego’s heart ached for it.

“Hi, everybody, welcome to SAS, Sexual Abuse Survivors, we’ll go around the circle and share what you’d like to be called and your age. I’ll start, I’m Deanna, and I’m fifty-eight.” Momma De said to start the meeting.

“I’m Amanda, I’m twenty-two,” Amanda said with a little wave tacked on the end.

“Charlie, I’m thirty-five,” said the next guy, new to the group. His voice was tight, but he seemed determined to stay confident.

The circle went on until it go to Diego. He’d been listening, waiting for his turn, picturing the words in his mind like Mom always said.

“I’m Diego,” he started, eyes down, nail scraping a bit of paint off the folding chair’s frame between his thighs. “‘m twenty-nine.”

He could feel Momma De’s heavy gaze.

The introductions got back to Momma De while she watched him.

“Thank you guys, I’m really glad that you chose to come here tonight, it’s a big step. we normally go around the group and talk a little bit about how we’re coping, anything we’re really struggling with, you can share your story if you feel comfortable, but you never have to talk about something you don’t want to.” she gave the group a warm, motherly smile. “Just for right now though, would you guys be okay if I focused on someone for a minute?”

All around the circle they gave her little nods and soft ‘ _sure_ ’s. Diego didn’t bother answering.

“Would you be okay with that, Diego?” she asked not unkindly. he gave a small nod of affirmation. “You seem distant today, its a lot from when we saw you last week. I know some things have been going on, do you wanna talk about it?”

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for his stutter to come out at his first unrehearsed word.

“M-my dad died last week,” he started. He could feel the sympathy radiating off the new people. He fucking hated it. “funeral was today, got into it with my brother.”

 _‘Keep it brief, the new people deserved a chance to talk.’_ he thought to himself.

“The one that was closest with your father?” Amanda asked when it was clear he wasn’t going to elaborate. Vanya would do the same thing when they were kids, asking vague questions to make you talk without stepping on any toes.

“Yeah, Luther thinks Dad hung the moon and stars,” Diego snorted a little at his dumb pun. “and I can’t even explain how fucked everything was, he’d never believe me. None of them would.” De shifted in her seat, watching him closely. The two of them had had this conversation before.

“We’ve talked about the evidence and your hesitance to go to the police with it, has anything changed?” Momma De asked.

“So my brothers and sisters and whole damn world can see me get-” he started bitterly, barely stopping himself from saying that. Momma De had always reminded him he wasn’t to blame. That he wasn’t responsibly for what his dad did. “So they can see my dad do that to me?” he finished instead.

He could hear how bitter he sounded. It left a bad taste in his mouth, made him hate his dad even more.

“Is that really why?” Momma De asked, not unkindly. she wanted to know. Her eyes were open and inviting, gently asking for the truth. Sometimes growing up, mom would give him that look, and it always made him so sad to know she could never understand. But Momma De could understand.

“I don’t think I can handle everyone I’ve ever been with since saying how I’m a broken person, I can’t handle my brother looking at me knowing, and I can’t handle that I’m still gonna have to hide things from them.” his eyes were warm and heavy. The tears pooled in them begged to fall. Barely hold them back, he looked down to chip at the paint some more.

Th circle sat in heavy silence for a long beat. Amanda shot him a sympathetic smile. Sympathy was one of the worst parts. The way people would look at you like your bones were made of glass, like someone would sneeze and you would just shatter into a million tiny pieces.

Momma De seemed to understand that he was done talking, instead thanking him for sharing before turning to one of the new people.

Diego forced himself to focus and listen. The new girl called on talk about her dickwad ex. She took her time, building up her confidence before talking about how she hadn’t realized how fucked up he was until everything was said and done. He nodded along when she talked about leaving him, about how hard it was to build a life after you’ve lost yourself in another person.

And if he couldn’t breathe just right when the new girl mentioned how she found herself missing being controlled, to have someone else make all the big scary decisions and even the tiny nonsensical ones too, then that was just for him the know. And maybe Amanda if the was she kept glancing at him was any indication.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop a comment? Comments for a poor writer? Any comments to spare?
> 
> National Sexual Assault Hotline  
> Call 1-800-656-4673
> 
> National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233

**Author's Note:**

> I love all of you guys, leave a comment if you want and i will see you guys next time?
> 
> National Sexual Assault Hotline  
> Call 1-800-656-4673
> 
> National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233


End file.
